Rays of light and stardust
Are all just fine
But life is long when the clocks are wrong
Most of the time
Poor Sylvester let it fester
In his mind
Losing balance, fraying strands
Of life lines
Chances are he's lost his marbles
This time
Splitting threads of memories
For a sign
That the empty space behind your face
Is the same kind
Of energy that lets us be
Like sunshine
Velvet thoughts and mystic prayers
All combine
In spiritually charged webs
Of design
Poor Sylvester pestered
By the divine
Falling forward back into
A decline